A Brightness In Mine Eyes
by SanguineNoctis
Summary: Loki has managed to enthrall Thor with the scepter, but why does he still feel so much like the 'little brother' ? Takes place during The Avengers. One-shot.


A/N: Just a random idea I had. Obviously this is AU since it takes place during _The Avengers_. Rated T just to be safe.

For those of you still waiting for me to finish up _Hollow Skies_ , you need not worry, I haven't abandoned it. I won't give a timetable for when it'll finally be done, but just know that it will eventually get there. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this little one-shot.

* * *

 _ **A Brightness In Mine Eyes**_

Loki can't believe that he'd succeeded. Can't, still, even when he's stood before Thor himself, whose blue - _too_ blue _,_ now - eyes rest on him, comfortable and without the storm that Loki had come to expect whenever they would meet.

It had almost been too easy, and somehow, he almost feels wrong for it. Thor should not give up so easily. He should fight until his last breath, and even then Loki was sure Thor would find his way back to this mortal coil and _drag_ him down with him should Loki ever succeed in killing his erstwhile brother. But he hadn't spent his last breath as a free man with a curse against the trickster, he'd instead looked... calm.

 _Blue. Blue eyes._

His eyes had always been blue, though. But not like this. Loki isn't sure he likes it. It's as if a blinding sun shines eternally on his brother's face, and it seems to do so for some reason that is hidden from the trickster; no, he _does not like it_.

But now Loki has the power, and now he knows he should use it. Thor is his thrall, and he stands before him, waiting. _Watching_. As if he understands something - perhaps the reason why the sun still shines on him so easily - that Loki does not.

The sprawling underground in which Loki and his thralls have found for themselves is damp and cold, and Loki does not like that either. In fact, he finds himself liking very little of late. And why had he come to this room with Thor? What had Thor said? _'Rest, brother. You look weary.'_ He didn't have the right. He isn't his _brother_. He should tell Thor not to call him that. He should. But he can't. He doesn't know why.

Still, Loki finds himself excited because Thor _is here_ , and he'll listen to him, do anything he wishes. He'll _kill_ for him, even kill his precious Jane, or the All-father, or his newfound friends, or his old friends, or _anyone_ Loki says because that's what it means to be under the scepter's command.

But...

But when Thor looks at him, looks at him with something strange in his too-blue eyes, Loki suddenly feels like he's about to fall. He doesn't, though, because the others _might see_. They shouldn't, because he's their master and they shouldn't be allowed to see him crumble.

But _Thor is here_ , and Loki suddenly realizes _it doesn't matter_ , none of it. It doesn't matter if _he_ sees, because why should it? He could tell Thor to forget everything that happens after this moment. Make his mind blank of memories, to wash away whatever remains of Loki in his once-free mind.

Yes. Yes, that would do. It _wasn't real_ , then. Any of it. These actions could be a dream and Loki can hold them and cherish them and treat them as if they are true - at least for now. And then... and then he'll tell Thor, _order_ him to forget.

Lost in his thoughts, Loki almost starts when Thor steps toward him. He takes one step only, his head tilted slightly to the side. "Is something wrong, brother?" Thor asks.

 _Brother_. _Yes, call me brother while you can._ Loki's first instinct is to shake his head, a knee-jerk reaction to lie, but instead he forces himself to nod, albeit jerkily.

"Is there any way I might help?" Thor asks next, concern in his tone, yet only barely.

 _He'll forget. It doesn't matter. Just give in. Do what you want. He'll forget and it won't have happened._ The lie works. Loki looks about meekly, lets his eyes wander worriedly, lets fall the mask of authority he's been holding so tightly to his face that it almost hurt.

It's only _Thor_ here, and soon he'll forget.

"Brother?" Thor questions again.

Loki lets a small sound escape. He's not certain what the sound is, only that he knows what effect that kind of sound usually has on his elder brother. He hasn't made such a sound in so long, but he's made it now, and he can't take it back. So he lets his eyes do what they've been demanding to do ever since he'd arrived on Midgard: he cries. Small, silent tears, but Thor, he knows, will easily see them - more so, he _wants_ him to.

Loki all but stumbles forward then, and whispers in a pathetically small voice, as if he were a child again, " _Brother._ "

It gets easier after that, to pretend it's all real, after Thor moves to embrace him and hold him tight. Loki buries his face against Thor's shoulder and is suddenly glad that he had taken that first step, is glad he can let free himself, to _finally_ _feel_ what he's kept chained for so long.

"Brother," Loki whimpers this time, not caring that his breath trembles with each intake of breath.

"Shh, quiet now," Thor orders, and it's strange because how can _he_ give orders to _Loki_?

Yet still, Loki obeys and keeps quiet as he allows the solicitude to overtake him. It feels so strangely wonderful and he suddenly doesn't want it to end.

He had had grand plans for Thor after he'd miraculously managed to enthrall him. He'd meant to use Thor as his champion, to take over Midgard first, then perhaps Alfheim or Nidavellir, and then, when they'd gathered enough aid from the other realms, Asgard itself.

He'd had such _grand plans_. But now, now all he can think to use Thor for is _this_. To remain in his steady arms and tell him to whisper words of comfort into his ear. To make him say: _'You are my brother, always,'_ and, _'I do not care what others say about you, I love you,'_ and, _'Father and Mother have already forgiven you. Let us return home,"_ and so many other words Loki craves.

He should have him say those words now, Loki thinks, but for some reason he can't get Thor's words of _'quiet now'_ out of his head, so he remains silent.

When Thor runs his fingers through Loki's hair, Loki suddenly begins to feel sleepy. Perhaps Thor was right, perhaps he should rest for a while. Barton had arranged for this room to have some minor amenities, including a bed - paltry though it is for a prince, and more so _two_ princes.

Obviously seeing how Loki eyes the bed, Thor smiles at him and moves them toward it.

"Good idea, brother," Thor says. "Some rest will recover your strength."

Loki shakes his head even as he does not resist. "No, I..." _I need to plan. Midgard awaits. Thanos..._ Loki shudders at the thought. He pushes it out of his mind because that _name_ has no place here. He's comforted here and he doesn't want those thoughts scarring this perfect dream.

"I will not take no for an answer, Loki," says Thor, and he again thinks it strange how Thor continues to give orders, continues as if he's still the _older brother_ and he can simply _tell_ Loki what to do. Yet it's even stranger that Loki listens. He can't help it, somehow.

O - O

The thunderer doesn't sleep; Loki doesn't understand why. He stands guard near the door as if he were Heimdall himself watching over the Nine Realms. But Thor cannot see that far, all he can see is Loki.

Sleepily, Loki asks, "Are you not tired, brother?" _Brother._ The word should feel strange on his tongue, but it doesn't. Instead, it's strange that it's not strange.

"No," answers Thor as he continues to lean against the wall. "I will watch over you." The words, spoken so plainly, make a strange sensation pass through Loki. It is warm, and soft, and he _hates_ that such a simple thing can cause so potent a reaction in him.

He wants to order Thor away from the door, but he still can't bring himself to say anything. Absently, Loki tries to remember if he's even given Thor a _single_ order since he'd enthralled him. To his mild surprise, he hasn't. Why not? Well...it hasn't been that long, has it? There hasn't been enough time, that's all.

Finally, Loki does manage to say something. "Thor..." he begins, but somehow, the word isn't right. "Brother," he says instead, "won't you...come lie down with me?" He immediately hates his own words. What utter sentimental drivel! He wants to take it back. But... it won't matter, he tells himself again, he'll soon have Thor erase his memory and _it won't matter_. So he speaks again, "I...want you near me. Please?" What in Hel is _wrong_ with him? Why is he saying _please_ to his own thrall? He should order him to come to bed. Yes, _he should_.

Instead, Loki stares at his older brother with widened, sad eyes. He suddenly despises himself for it, for falling back on this age-old trick to manipulate Thor. He doesn't _need_ to do that anymore. He doesn't need to look small and disappointed in order to get his big brother to do what he wants.

Yet, as if nothing at all has changed in these past centuries, Thor smiles kindly and nods. "I suppose the others will keep constant vigil," he says as he moves to the bed. He removes his cape and chest-plate, but nothing else as he crawls into bed with Loki. "Is this better?" he asks after he gathers Loki toward him.

 _'Is this better_. _'_ Loki suddenly wants to be angry at Thor, to throw him out of bed, but he doesn't understand why. Is it because those words are so familiar? Because he'd heard them hundreds of times growing up, and from the same lips that speak them now?

Even as Loki doesn't answer, Thor seems to let it go. The thunderer next says, "All will be well, brother."

Loki can't help it then, he buries his face against Thor and clings to him like a life-line to some distant forgotten shore. "How can you know," he all but cries, suddenly dismayed. Because everything is _so wrong_ , and nothing is _well_. He doesn't want to think it, but _he knows_ , suddenly can't deny it.

 _'All will be well, brother.'_ Thor's words ring in his ears. How can he say that? All was not even well with _him_ , after all. He's the thrall of his worst enemy and he says _all will be well_. It's a lie, Loki thinks, _has_ to be, because nothing has gone _well_ in his life thus far. He has fallen so far and has yet to get back up. He can't seem to do it, no matter how hard he tries. He can only crawl, and he hates it.

He lets his eyes lift to Thor's unnatural blue ones. "H-help me, brother," Loki whispers. "Help me..."

Those same strange eyes somehow still manage a look of such concern. "Brother," Thor gathers him more in his arms, "What causes you such dismay? You know I will help you, whatever you need."

Desperately, Loki shakes his head. "No... _No._ I-I've done something terrible. I've done something- and...and I know you will never forgive me for it." His tears fall hot down his face and he doesn't know how to stop them.

"I will _always_ forgive you," says Thor, kissing his hair. "Always."

Loki's hands grip tightly at Thor's jerkin. "No," he continues, protesting like a child, because how could Thor _possibly_ forgive him? Not just for this, but for _giving in_? For...for become _this_ , this _thing_ that would take his own brother's will as if it were his to take? Thor is - Thor _was_ the last one who still loved Loki and might forgive him. Frigga, perhaps, might, but she is not here and he can't be certain of her love anymore, if it ever existed - _nothing_ is certain, because Loki has _seen_ , seen too much of what he shouldn't have after he fell. He saw hidden and forgotten worlds and monsters and that vicious and ripping _Void_ that chewed at him until it spit him out into another nightmare. Except this nightmare spoke, and moved, and saw things it _wanted_ , and what it wanted it _took_ , and Loki was only in the way and if he hadn't _given in_ then he would have been crushed into less than dust.

 _...Don't fight, you fool._

All was lost. But _here_ , with Thor... At least there had been his brother's love, that solid thing that never shifted or lifted or changed - it still remained when Loki returned. But now Loki has butchered it and thrown it away, and he _can't get it back_. He'd _taken_ Thor's love when Thor had already offered it freely.

Loki cries against Thor then, feels his despair enshroud him like a tomb he can't escape, even as he screams for the sun to pull him back.

"Brother," Thor is saying, his voice suddenly distant.

" _No, no, no,_ " Loki whispers and repeats. He can't fix it, _he can't_. He looks to Thor, those blue and _wrong_ eyes and says in nearly a hush, "Please forgive me..."

"There is nothing to forgive, brother. Why do you cry so?" But he still hasn't said it, hasn't said the words, and suddenly Loki doesn't want a single untruth uttered from Thor's mouth. It seems so very important now.

So Loki jumps up and out of bed, even as his mind and body cry out for _Brother_ , to hold him and keep him safe. It's an illusion and an unspeakable and beautiful dream that he _can't_ hold to, not if he wants that one thing back - that one thing that Thor, he hopes, will again give to him freely.

 _I haven't thrown it all away; I haven't. He always will. He always will._

Doing his best to blink his tears away - because he can't think to wipe them, wants _Thor_ to do it for him - he grabs the discarded scepter and holds it tightly to his chest.

Thor looks confused as he stands from the bed. "What is wrong?"

 _I can do this,_ he tells himself. _You can do this, Loki. You can do this._ The scepter isn't right in his hands, it suddenly feels so very heavy. He wants to drop it, to drop it and run to Thor and slumber forever until Yggdrasil and all the realms fade away. Yet he can't because suddenly the tip of the scepter is touching Thor's chest. There's a bright blue light that seeps back into the scepter, like impossible sand moving upward in an hourglass. Thor's eyes clear, and Loki almost smiles when he sees the blue - _Thor's_ blue in them. It feels _right_ suddenly, and his head almost swims at the feeling of warmth passing through his body.

 _This,_ finally, is his brother. His _true_ brother.

But Loki's growing smile is lost when there's suddenly a bruising hand around his throat. Thor is suddenly in his face, and the hard and unforgiving wall is pushing against his spine. Loki unconsciously gurgles out a sound, but nothing is getting through.

 _Brother_ , he wants to say, plead, not just because he's choking, but because _Thor is so angry._ His natural blue eyes now terrify him; the sun still shines on them, but it is suddenly so much harsher, brighter. He wants to think, to say to himself that he's made a mistake, that he shouldn't have _done that_ , but those eyes are just so _right_ now - despite their severity - that he can't, not even in his own mind. This is life as it's meant to be. This is _Thor_ , and this is _Loki_ , their positions as they should be, with Thor looming over him, and Loki... in his shadow.

"Why did you do it, Loki?!" Thor is shouting, his face close enough that his skin's heat touches Loki. " _Why?_ "

The hand lets up just enough that Loki can choke out, "B-Because I..." He tries to think of an answer that might keep Thor from killing him. "Because I wanted you on my side. I...I wanted you-"

" _No_ ," Thor interrupts, face suddenly calmer. "No," he says again, " _Why did you free me?_ "

Loki blinks at that, because he hadn't thought... He had forgotten, forgotten to erase Thor's memories.

And now the hand is letting up, is moving to cup the side of Loki's neck instead of choking him.

"Why, brother," says Thor, face intense with the question, " _Why_?"

Loki has to think hard, has to answer the question in his own mind because even he's not sure. But, even with all his instincts telling him to _lie_ , to do as he's always done and _push away_ , he can't bring himself to do so now, not when Thor is looking at him like he doesn't hate him - like he could _never_ hate him.

The answer suddenly comes so easily, flows out like water in the desert: "Because you already loved me."

Thor stares at him after that for a long time, eyes darting between Loki's. And when finally he moves away, he does so only after he grabs Loki's head with both hands, then kisses him firmly atop his head. Loki is then sliding down against the wall, and there are the sounds of battle out in the corridor, but he does not care. Because Thor had not killed him. Thor had _kissed_ him, continued calling him _Brother_ even as he should have been cursing him and caving in his skull.

It's somehow unbelievable, but it feels so _real_. This isn't a dream, Loki knows, and he's happy - so _happy_ , and nearly in tears - when Thor comes back for him and takes him away.

Loki wants to deny what he feels, hold onto that sinking hatred that's been weighing him down so long, that's kept the sun from his eyes, but he knows he can't - not anymore. His own actions would scream back at him and tell him to stop it; to stop and see what's right in front of him. Yes, Thor will always love him, but, more importantly, _Loki_ will love him back.

* * *

A/N: The idea of "What if Loki had somehow used the scepter on Thor?" has always sort of lingered in my mind. I'd actually like to expand on this idea and maybe write another fic with a similar theme, but this one popped out first. What do you all think?


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